


The Barista Who Led a Double Life

by Bella_Monoxide



Series: The Adventures of Dean Winchester, Scam Artist Extraordinaire [3]
Category: Supernatural, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Flirting, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-16 22:33:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8120083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bella_Monoxide/pseuds/Bella_Monoxide
Summary: Dean and Sam investigate a possible case, which leads Dean towards a coffee shop where he meets a charming barista...





	1. Be Kind to Your Barista...

**Author's Note:**

> I just love to come up with unusual pairings!  
> This time around I also challenged myself to write a story in which the brothers are dealing with a case, while at the same time trying to keep Gareth's, shall we say, characteristics from TWD.  
> Please let me know how you like this one in a comment!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A warm thank you goes out to my friend pharmtechgirl71, who does not tire of beta-ing for me!

Dean Winchester felt drained as he steered his beloved Impala through the small town near Baltimore in Maryland. After having solved the crisis caused by the vampires in Georgia, and quite a few other cases along the way, he was just so tired.

Thinking about how people in other professions got at least a couple weeks off per year, he parked in front of a small coffee shop, where all the supposed victims had been seen at some point close to the time before they had vanished.

It was the only connection between them he and Sam had managed to find so far, and they had decided for Dean to follow up on said lead, while Sam stayed at the motel to do more research. It was really the only logical decision, as Dean usually got stir-crazy when he stayed in one place too long, especially in addition to all that time they spent driving all over the country, solving mysterious cases.

Plus, he groused inwardly as he pushed the door open, he had gotten fed up with the constant teasing Sam gave him since it became obvious that Dean was not just a womanizer, but liked guys as well.

Waiting in the small line that had formed at the counter, Dean let his thoughts wander while he inhaled deeply, taking in the soothing combination of coffee and freshly baked goods. He still had trouble coming to terms with his new found adjustment in preferences, and Sam's teasing was not helping.

Dean thought back to the encounter he had when they had been following a lead on those vampires in Georgia. Daryl Dixon, local redneck and fellow hunter, who worked with his older brother Merle. Dean felt a tad melancholy, because he had liked the rough, but ultimately very sweet guy a lot.

Thinking about what they called the 'family business'; hunting the supernatural, which was a highly dangerous, but at the same time both financially and personally dissatisfying occupation, and not for the first time, debating retirement from said job, Dean did not pay much attention to his surroundings. He only got startled out of his thoughts when the barista asked him what he would like to have.

As soon as Dean managed to focus on the guy, it was clear that there was a spark between them, and they stared into each other's eyes for a long minute. Distracted as he was, it took Dean a moment to remember his mission, not to mention Sam's ridiculously complicated order, and he scrunched up his face in thought.

The barista leaned across the counter, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he said in a quiet, but clearly audible voice "What's up with the frowny face there, handsome?"

When Dean's expression turned to disbelieving, the barista added "Don't you know that smiling at the barista brings good luck?" And he winked at him in such a disarming way that Dean could not help but laugh.

Finding it hard to get his order together since the guy's eyes were so distracting, Dean stumbled through his answer, until the barista could not help but laugh.

"Let me guess," he mused, "that's not for yourself, right?" A watchful glint sparked to life in his eyes and he moved back a bit before he added "Maybe your girlfriend's..?"

Dean groaned. "Nope, it's what my kid brother defines as coffee, and I always have the hardest time remembering that shit." He tore his gaze from the barista's eyes to his chest for a moment to read his name tag before he continued.

"So, Gareth, you think you can help me anyways?" Dean asked, subtly batting his lashes at him to test the waters.

The barista briefly closed his eyes. "Mh, I could get used to the way you say my name," he murmured only loud enough for Dean to hear, who promptly blushed and cast his eyes down.

"Nu uh," Gareth said, two of his long, slender fingers lifting Dean's prominent chin right back up. "We can't have that now, can we?" He asked, carrying on to explain to a, by then profusely flustered, Dean.

"Such pretty green eyes should never be cast down like that." He pulled his fingers back with visible reluctance. "Now, handsome, what would you like to have for yourself, huh?" He asked, and Dean hurried to let him know his own name, but when he ordered a plain black coffee, Gareth looked all but affronted. He put his fists above his hips and told Dean in a stern voice "That's just unacceptable. Why don't you let me surprise you?"

Dean, long past the point of arguing by then, only shrugged. "Sure. But you have to bag me a slice of pie, a'ight?"

When being told that the café did not offer any, Dean looked so scandalised that Gareth had to laugh out loud.

"You're quite the traditional guy, Dean, I can see that now. Just sit down somewhere and I'll call when your order is ready, kay?" Practically shooing him away, Gareth turned to prepare Dean's drinks, and the hunter went to sit in one of the booths, a smile lingering on his handsome features.

After a minute, he remembered his mission and tried to engage the couple in the next booth into a conversation. They were friendly enough, but unable to help him with information about the missing people.

Hoping that Sam had been more successful in the meantime, Dean got up to get his order when Gareth called him back to the counter.

"So," the barista said, "I got your brother's drink ready." He rang up Dean's order, and earned a look of surprise from Dean when he heard the low amount. While he pulled out a couple bucks from his latest poker winnings, not without feeling a painful stab as the memory of a certain fellow hunter resurfaced for a second, Gareth explained.

"Your own drink and a piece of baked goodness are on the house." He batted his ridiculously long lashes at Dean, who paid in a daze, all but managing to thank Gareth, before he picked up the paper bag containing his order and left the shop.

His drive back to the motel was filled with thoughts of a barista with huge, doe-like eyes, milky white skin and contrasting dark hair.

* * *

Later that same day, Dean was about ready to tear his hair out. All had gone well enough after he had gotten back to the motel room; Sam was satisfied with his drink, and Dean had practically devoured his own drink and a muffin that had come as close to apple pie as a muffin possibly could.

But when Sam had picked up the used take-out containers in an attempt to tidy up their work space, the teasing Dean had to endure lately had reached a whole new level.

He had briefly told Sam about the barista, and when his brother had made to throw Dean's cup away, he discovered a message Dean had managed to overlook while he was drinking the liquid goodness within.

"Well, well, well," Sam said in a tone that could only be described as suggestive, "you forgot to mention that you flirted with that barista, Dean!"

Groaning, Dean asked "What is it now, Sammy?"

His brother turned the coffee-to-go cup around in his hands so Dean was able to see the note that read 'Dean – call me', complete with a number. Dean, shaking his head in disbelief, made to snatch the cup out of Sam's hand, but it appeared that Sam had decided to be a little shit about it.

He pulled the cup out of Dean's reach with the long-practiced reflexes of a seasoned hunter and shook his head in mock-sternness, and he said, much to Dean's chagrin, "Uh-oh, I'm afraid you will have to spill the beans first..."

* * *

While Dean was, very reluctantly, telling Sam about his experience at the coffee shop, the barista in question was headed home after a long shift. It had been draining, so consequently, his feet were killing him, and he kept hoping that Dean would call, so he was not in the best of moods to deal with his younger – and much less intelligent – brother.

Alex had been working at the café as well, and together they were headed over to their mom's business for a quick discussion of the status quo of their secret family operation. Their mom, Mary, was concerned, because lately there had been rumors around town about people going missing.

That fact alone would not have been anything to worry about, but in the meantime those rumors had reached a level that was unacceptable for them. Mary had considered to moving the family yet again, but Gareth was just tired of it.

Besides, since he had gotten his own business and was doing very well, he did not see the need to move – for himself at least. Of course, as he was the mastermind of the family business, their mom had blown a fuse when he dared to tell them about his doubts.

Sighing loudly, he steered his Prius onto the road that lead to the old train yard. The buildings had been converted into a restaurant after the rail company had deserted the place more than a decade ago, and now, under his family's reign, it was called The Terminus Bar & Grill.

Resolving to keep the upcoming, and undoubtly unpleasant talk as short as possible so he could finally relax on his couch at home, Gareth groaned audibly when Alex berated him yet again.

"Dude!" Alex said, shoving his elbow painfully into Gareth's ribs, "Are you even listening to me? You can't have a relationship!"

Gareth sighed. "I'm not, and Dean is just passing through anyways."

"You can't know that, Gareth!" Alex was on the verge of going on and on, but Gareth cut him off.

"I can, and I do. Alright?" Gareth replied, a finality audible in his tone. He sighed loudly. "I watched as he left the parking lot, and his license plate is from a completely different state. Now shut it, and keep your nose out of my love life."

Alex huffed, but did not dare to contradict Gareth again.

"Alex," the barista said as they drove into the parking lot behind the building, "I don't have to tell you to keep your big trap shut about this, do I?" He spoke quietly, but there was a threat woven into his words that his brother could not fail to hear. Consequently, he only managed a small nod, and the brothers remained silent as Gareth parked the car.

He was just about to get out when Alex grabbed his arm. "You know what mom said, Gareth. No ties to people outside of the family."

"Yeah, yeah," Gareth gave back, pulling his arm out of Alex' grasp with a deadly glare, "too risky, I know."

They went inside and talked to their mom, which turned out to be just as unpleasant as Gareth had anticipated, then Gareth went outside again to drive to his small apartment. Alex had decided to stay at the bar, and Gareth was glad to be rid of his brother for the time being.

He spent the drive thinking about those hunters Mary had mentioned. She had ties with practitioners of dark magic, since those needed all kinds of human stuff for their rituals, and their family had an endless supply.

Through one of her contacts, Mary had heard a rumor that two hunters had come to town, investigating the reports of missing people. Even though the stuff his family was into did have nothing to do with the supernatural world, they still had no desire of getting caught in the crossfire such an investigation could potentially pose.

Even though he had tried his best to not let it on while talking to Mary and Alex minutes ago, Gareth was worried, and his brain was already geared up to think of possible solutions.

The ringing of his phone startled him out of his thoughts as he opened the front door to his apartment. Hoping that it was not his mom, he fished the device out of his pocket, spying an unknown number on the display.

Swiping it, he answered the phone – and closed his eyes when the rich sound of Dean's deep voice reached his ear.

"Gareth, is that you?" He asked. Gareth made a confirmative sound, and Dean laughed nervously. "Man, that's quite the number you pulled on me. Wanna let me know what you want?"

"Isn't that rather obvious, Dean?" Gareth smiled smugly when he heard Dean's hastily muffled gasp. "I'd like to _meet_ you, outside of my place of work. Are you _up_ for that?" Gareth managed to make those innocent words sound very suggestive, and Dean had to clear his throat before he was able to reply.

They arranged to meet later that evening, and Dean hung up after a minute, feeling flustered all over again. He was just not used to being on the receiving end of such blatant flirting, and he was sure that the resulting blush reached the tips of his ears.

Thankful that Sam was out running, Dean hopped into the shower to get ready for his date. When Sam got back from his run, Dean told him about his plans, and Sam could not help but tease his older brother some more.

Unsurprisingly, Dean got fed up after just a minute. "Sam, will you cut it out already? Geez." He grabbed the keys from the table and went to the door. "Not sure if I'll make it back here tonight."

Sam snorted, but Dean only rolled his eyes. His tone changed to concerned when he added "Seriously though, call me if anything comes up, alright?" Sam nodded, and wished him a good time, unable to pass up on the opportunity for one last tease.

On his drive to the bar where he would be meeting Gareth, Dean thought about the visit he and Sam had paid to the local police department that day, and how they had discussed yet again if they even had a case on their hands.

They still were not sure, but Sam had voiced the opinion that it did look that way less and less the more they dug into it. Dean still had some doubts left as well, and he hoped to find out more from Gareth during the course of the evening.

But when he finally saw the guy again, he had the hardest time concentrating, since the barista was such a charming person. In addition to that, Gareth appeared to be not too keen on lingering at the bar any longer than necessary.

He and Dean each got a bite to eat and a drink to go along with it, then Gareth whisked Dean away as soon as he had drunk the last gulp of his beer. Debating whose car they would take ended in both of them driving their respective vehicles.

Dean's reaction to Gareth's Prius was the thing that clinched it for Gareth. Enduring Dean's hearty laughter with a stoic expression and his arms crossed over his chest, Gareth waited until Dean was almost done, before he said "You know you're lucky you're so cute, or else I might have taken offense at that."

Dean had the good sense to look slightly ashamed, and Gareth stepped closer, leaned forward and whispered into Dean's ear. "I forgot to add how sexy you are. Damn," he added, "you look good enough to eat." He licked Dean's ear, and a soft moan escaped Dean's mouth.

He inadvertently leaned into the contact, but it was over just as soon as it had begun. Looking deep into each other's eyes, both men stood for a long minute, until a noise somewhere behind the bar brought them back to their senses, and they went on their way to Gareth's apartment.

 


	2. ...And Your Barista Will be Kind to You!

As soon as they got inside, Dean let out an audible 'ufh', as Gareth had slammed him against the door. Muttering something that sounded suspiciously like 'finally' to Dean, Gareth smashed their lips together in a firey kiss.

Their combined moans resounded through the apartment, and soon Dean had his hands under Gareth's shirt. The barista shed his jacket and toed off his shoes, and he managed to do all that while hardly stopping his assault on Dean's mouth.

He pushed Dean's jacket off his broad shoulders and immediately began to grope his body. "Man," he mumbled, "I love the way you're built."

Dean's head fell back, and a moan escaped his lips as Gareth kissed a line along Dean's jaw and on to his ear where he dished out small bites, causing Dean's grip on Gareth's body to tighten even more.

"You're not shy at all, huh?" Dean managed to get out in between moans, and Gareth laughed quietly.

"I guess you could say that," he gave back, chuckling. "And what would be the point in that, anyway?"

He grabbed Dean's hand and made to pull him further into the apartment, but Dean stopped him long enough to step out of his shoes as well. As soon as he had though, there was no stopping the force that was Gareth anymore, who appeared to have set his mind firmly on seducing Dean.

Eventually, Dean gave in, allowing for his partner to be the dominant one in a sexual encounter; but it was not for a lack of trying on his part.

They had moved on to the bedroom, leaving a trail of shed clothes in their wake, and Gareth had shoved Dean onto the bed, then crawled up to straddle him. He followed the lines of Dean's tattoo with his index finger.

"Interesting choice for a design," he murmured. "There a story behind it..?"

But Dean only waved him off, muttering something incoherently about being drunk and getting tattooed on a dare. Soon afterwards, they were kissing again, feeling each other up. Dean gasped loudly when Gareth began to stroke him through his boxer briefs, and the barista whispered into his ear.

"Why do I get the feeling that you haven't been batting for your own team long, huh?" Gareth laughed quietly when Dean blushed, and he whispered "Gotcha!" into his ear before he continued to kiss down the line of Dean's neck, making Dean squirm even more.

Gareth got up to free Dean of his last piece of clothing, shedding his own underwear as well, then he went to lay on top of Dean, pressing their erections together. Moaning, they moved against each other for some time, enjoying the friction between them.

After kissing Dean deeply, Gareth whispered "I want you, Dean. What do you say?"

Dean began to squirm, unsure of what he wanted, when he felt both his wrists being grabbed and pushed up over his head against the bedding he laid upon. His breath hitched, and he let out a tiny whimper, a fact that he would deny forever, of course.

But Gareth had heard it, and that was enough for the barista. "You like being manhandled, admit it, sunshine," he whispered, leaned in and captured Dean's lips in a deep kiss, effectively preventing him from answering.

Next thing Dean knew, a bottle of lube appeared out of seemingly nowhere, and Gareth began to prep him. But Dean was intrigued, because even though it was obvious that Gareth was in a hurry to move things along, at the same time, the barista made sure to treat him very carefully.

When Gareth had two fingers inside Dean's back entrance and began to scissor him open, Dean's eyes rolled back into his head, as his moans became louder and more frequent. He began to push back down on Gareth's fingers, and the barista smiled smugly.

Dean caught that and tried to make a snide comment, but found himself unable to; a fact that did not go amiss with the barista, who grinned mischievously. "It's ok to admit you like it, you know," he said, a twinkle in his eye, but Dean only scoffed under his breath, and Gareth let it go for the time being.

He had other, more pressing things on his mind.

"Can you reach the bedside table and grab a condom, handsome?" He asked, and Dean stretched his arm out, grabbing the item and throwing it over.

The sight he was confronted with then took his breath away. Gareth was bending over, his sinful lips parted and he engulfed Dean's erection, sucking it into his mouth. Gasping for breath, Dean was unable to look away, since Gareth's doe-like eyes had locked with his own – and he felt mesmerised.

Tending only to the head of his cock, Gareth soon had Dean on the edge, and he wore an expression of triumph on his face when Dean grinded out "Get on with it, Gareth, will ya? Dammit..."

Gareth let go of Dean's erection and said "As you wish," while his hands already fumbled with the condom wrapper.

Kneeling between Dean's muscular thighs, Gareth began to push the head of his own cock into Dean's awaiting hole, careful as to not to hurt him. When he was fully seated inside, he paused and waited, watching Dean for any sign of discomfort, which enabled him to enjoy a beautiful sight.

Dean's handsome features formed an expression of bliss, and his long lashes fluttered as his eyes closed while a sinful moan escaped his plush lips. Almost as to distract himself, Gareth started to fuck Dean, slowly at first, but soon enough his pace changed.

He bent down to lick Dean's nipples, which caused Dean to push himself down on Gareth's cock, moaning loudly. Dean grabbed Gareth by the hair and pulled him further down into a passionate kiss that never seemed to end.

Eventually, Gareth's push and pull rhythm got more erratic as he got closer to orgasm, and he altered the angle of his body in a way that enabled him to hit Dean's prostate with every push, determined to make Dean cum without even touching his cock again.

Dean's eyes promptly rolled into the back of his head; his moans sounded more desperate, and he held on to the headboard of the bed for dear life. When his cock started to spurt strings of cum all over his stomach, his eyes widened in wonder, and Gareth smiled triumphantly for a second.

He tried to keep watching Dean squirm, but could not fight the sensations of Dean's clenching hole around his cock.

"So... very... beautiful," Gareth pressed out between a couple of pushes, and he groaned loudly as he came deep inside of Dean. After fucking himself through his orgasm, he collapsed, barely managing to pull out first before he sank down onto Dean's cum-splattered chest.

* * *

Sometime later, Dean came out of the bathroom where he had cleaned himself up, and he walked around the apartment to gather up his clothes, when Gareth spoke up.

"Your phone went off while you were in the bathroom, Dean." A curious look on his face, he quietly observed how Dean went to the door to snatch his phone out of his leather jacket to see who had called.

"I'm sorry, Gareth, but I gotta call my brother back real quick," Dean said before he hit speed-dial, and Gareth nodded, using the time to get himself cleaned up as well. When he came back, Dean had ended his call, but looked worried.

"Dean," Gareth asked, "what exactly are you in town for? You never said..." A vigilant glint in his eyes, Gareth waited for Dean's answer.

Now fully clothed, his handsome bedmate-for-a-night shuffled his feet a bit before he said "I'm sorry, Gareth, but I can't really tell you." He sighed, sounding unhappy, and stepped up to pull Gareth into a hug. "I gotta go," he whispered into Gareth's ear, "my brother and I need to look into something."

Gareth hugged him back. "Pity," he answered, "I would have loved to do it again in the morning."

Chuckling, Dean pulled back a bit. "Yeah," he agreed, "me too." He leaned in to kiss Gareth goodbye, then left the apartment to drive back to the motel to get Sam.

When Dean was gone, Gareth went to check his own phone, and discovered that he had received texts from both Mary and Alex in the meantime. His mom had even called and left voice mail, demanding to know why he had switched off his phone.

Rolling his eyes and thinking that it was rather obvious why he might want to silent his phone every once in a while if Mary expected him to be available 24/7, his expression changed as he listened to the rest of her message.

He sent off a quick text to let her know that he would look into the matter asap, and, wondering if Dean's sudden depature had anything to do with either of the two incidents his mom had mentioned, he left his apartment to head over to check on his café.

 


	3. Barista in Distress

The next morning found both Winchesters sitting in a diner for breakfast after a long night of investigating. Somebody had broken into the local bank, and the brothers had spent half the night posing as the FBI-agents who were supposedly in town for the missing person reports.

Sam and Dean had been present when local police officers had interviewed the few employees who had been working in the bank at the time of the break-in, namely two cleaning people and a guy from security.

The Winchesters had furthermore watched footage from the security cameras in the bank, which had turned out to be a wise decision on their part, since Sam had spotted a dead giveaway in a couple of single shots. Both brothers had thought it prudent, based on the experiences in their real line of work, to watch the film in stop and go, in addition to the usual fast forwarding.

Needless to say, they could not let the local police know what they had discovered. Now they sat at a table in the corner, looking bleary-eyed, trying to figure out how to proceed from there.

"So," Dean said, sounding weary, "Shifter, huh?" When Sam nodded reluctantly, Dean shook his head and muttered under his breath. "Fuck."

Sam made some noncommittal sound before he asked "Do you think that one's responsible for all those people gone missing in the area though..?" He looked doubtful, and Dean shook his head.

"Nope, don't think so. We can't know for sure yet, but my gut tells me it's two different cases. If..."

"...the first one is a case at all," Sam finished the sentence.

Nodding grimly, Dean looked off into the distance, thinking.

In the early morning, the local police had been to the security guy's home once more for some follow up questions, since he had seemed to be the most likely suspect. But upon their arrival at his address, they had only found him dead.

Even though the skin the shifter had been wearing to impersonate him had not been found, Sam and Dean assumed that he would have taken on another person's form in the meantime.

"I dunno," Sam began after they each had spent a couple of minutes just dwelling on their own thoughts, "do you think the locals might be right for once..?"

Sam sounded doubtful himself, and Dean only scoffed. "Serial killer, Sam? Really?" He shook his head. "No, must be something else. I mean, you know all the data, right; now you tell me, what are the chances that you actually stumble across one of those in real life?"

After a minute in silent agreement, Sam started grinning mischievously, and Dean quirked an eyebrow.

"Well," Sam began, "maybe not the local police. But I was just thinking – what about us, huh? In our line of business..." He laughed, and Dean could not help but agree that he had a point.

They finished their breakfast, paid, and went outside to the Impala. Sam looked at Dean and said casually "You know, the coffee they serve here is actually pretty shitty, don't you agree?"

When Dean looked at him blankly, Sam rolled his eyes and continued, talking as if Dean were rather slow on the uptake – which, of course, he totally was. "Dean." He shook his head. "Coffee? Decent one?" His older brother still did not catch on, so Sam added "A shop you went to yesterday, returning with the number of a hot barista..? Which, I might add, you wouldn't have found if it hadn't been for your brother..."

"Sam!" Dean looked angry. "You just had to bring that back up, didn't you?" He groused, but Sam only laughed.

"Come on, casanova, let's go for 'dessert'," Sam told him, carefully airquoting the term, "and hopefully some information as well."

Rolling his eyes rather hard, Dean shook his head, but started up his beloved car and soon after, they were on their way to the coffee shop.

* * *

Dean felt disappointed when they were being served by a different barista. Apparently, he did not hide it well enough, too, as Sam gave him a knowing smirk, before he turned back around to place his complicated order with the guy whose nametag read 'Alex'.

They tried to engage him into a conversation regarding the many people that went missing around town, but, as Dean later told Sam, Alex was two veggies short of a meat and three. Consequently, they were unable to get any useful information from him.

Both Sam and Dean sat down in one of the booths to enjoy their drinks, and Dean kept an eye on Alex. After a while he leaned forward to let Sam know about the barista's nervous behaviour, but his younger brother only winked and suggested for Dean to show Alex his badge and interrogate him on his own, if he wanted to know where Gareth was that badly.

"Sam," Dean whispered urgently, "I'm serious. Dude is hiding something, he's nervous as fuck!"

Rolling his eyes, Sam gave back "You're just nervous yourself, cause your favorite barista is not working."

In the end Sam decided to humor him since Dean would not budge. They both got up and Sam went to talk to Alex some more, while Dean walked out of the shop and around it, to have a look at the structure and its surroundings, keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary.

A few telltale marks on a door at the back of the building put him on high alert. He moved silently towards the door which did not shut properly anymore. Dean thought that a crowbar was the most likely tool responsible for the damage as he leaned with his back against the wall next to the door and listened for any sound.

After a moment of adjustment, he could make out the voice of the person he had been with the night before – only now Gareth sounded totally different. Cold, and threatening.

Wondering who on Earth he might be talking to, Dean strained his ears, but could barely make out any actual words. He slipped his hand inside his jacket, pulled his knife out of it's sheath and carefully opened the door, hoping that it would not creak. He snuck inside, hiding behind a corner in a small hallway that appeared to lead to a storage room.

A strong smell assaulted his nostrils as soon as he had gotten inside, and Dean covered his nose with one arm. While he was looking around for the source of the stench, he heard what was being spoken in the storage room.

"Breathe," Gareth said before he laughed maliciously. "I know, not too easy through that gag, but I'm sure you'll manage."

Silence.

Dean thought he could make out the sounds of a person pacing, then he heard another comment.

"Don't worry, I'll only stay in this town long enough until I can safely escape with my newfound riches, and then you'll be able to carry on with your despicable life."

Laughing mirthlessly again, he continued. "Of course, that depends on how well your dumb brother handles himself. Threatening to kill him if you wouldn't cooperate made him a tad nervous, don't you agree?" He added conversationally.

Dean mentally patted himself on the shoulder for assessing the situation in the shop correctly; but at the same time, he got more and more confused by what he heard. Who was the person talking? Surely Gareth himself would not threaten anyone with taking Alex' life..?

Creeping forward, Dean peeked around the corner, through the door that stood slightly ajar. But what he saw made him freeze in motion for a few precious seconds, mentally berating himself for the big idiot he had been, unable to connect what he had overheard with his and Sam's recent findings.

Apparently, the shifter had taken on Gareth's form, and was now prancing around the storage room, taunting his captive – most likely until all available information on Gareth and his life had been successfully transferred to his own head.

Unfortunately for Dean, his moment of shock had cost him the element of surprise, and the shifter had not only seen, but also grabbed ahold of him.

Dean's knife had taken flight and was lying uselessly on the floor, close to where the real Gareth was sitting – bound and gagged. There was a hopelessness in his eyes that hurt Dean deeply, but he knew that he had no chance against the strength of a shifter.

Leaning forward, the shifter whispered into Dean's ear loud enough for Gareth to hear. "You're Gareth's squeeze from last night," he stated, grinning wickedly. "So glad to make your acquaintance." He nodded his head in a mock salute, before he casually added "Love your tattoo, by the way."

Dean had a sudden sense of foreboding; and the shifter did not disappoint, as the next thing he said was "So, Dean, connecting the dots here."

The shifter paused for effect.

"That would be Dean Winchester, the hunter, then, huh?" He quirked one of Gareth's eyebrows, which looked pretty scary, and just downright wrong.

In an attempt to appear brave, Dean pressed through his gritted teeth "My reputation preceeds me, I see."

Shifter-Gareth's head fell back into his neck as he laughed out loud. "Right," he continued after his laughter had subsided, "you are rumored to be quite ballsy. But of course, foolishness often gets mistaken for bravery." He looked Dean calmly in the eye, unfazed by the hunter's deadly glare, and added in a thoughtful tone. "I wonder though – didn't you use to hunt with your brother..?"

Regretting their split up something fierce by then, Dean desperately scrambled his brain for a way out of his seeminly hopeless situation, when a shout reached him from the direction of the door.

"Dean!" As if on cue, Sam entered the room and pushed a handle into Dean's hand. Working seamlessly as always, Dean did not think, but took over from Sam, pushing the knife into the shifter's side, wounding and causing him to howl in pain.

Pressing a hand on the wound, the shifter loosened his hold of Dean, but still tried to talk to him. "Wait!" He gritted out in an urgent tone, "Don't you wanna know what little Gareth here has been up to..."

But Dean, unwilling to let another good opportunity pass him by, took aim and pierced the shifter's heart in a killing blow, and they all watched as Gareth's look-alike dropped to the floor.

Dean stood panting, while Sam bent down, grabbed Dean's knife and freed Gareth from his bindings. Gareth spit out the gag, and gazed over at his doppelgänger again, a look of horror on his face.

Gradually, he began to move his limbs to regain full feeling in them. The Winchesters watched him, waiting for an explanation.

When he felt like he could talk again, Gareth thanked the brothers profusely, but he seemed nervous to Dean. He just could not make out why he would be, especially now, when there was no danger anymore.

"So, Gareth," Sam said, "how about you tell us your story?"

Reluctantly, Gareth started out by telling them that he was the owner of the café, and Alex, his younger brother, one of his employees. "Shortly after you had left last night, Dean, I found messages from my mom that somebody had broken into my shop. I..."

"What," Sam asked, shaking his head, "you did drive here to take a look yourself? Why not call the police?"

Gareth shrugged. "My family, we are used to getting things done on our own, I guess."

Dean looked at Sam, a small grin playing around his mouth. Getting the drift, Sam grinned right back. After all, the brothers were not prone to call the authorities themselves. Somehow Gareth seemed to pick up on the vibe between them.

Looking from one to the other, he asked them what it was that had copied him. "A shifter? Huh. So, does that mean that monsters actually exist then?" When the brothers only nodded in confirmation, he shook his head and added a lapidary "Who would've guessed."

Some of his usual zest seemed to come back then, and he went on. "I'll call the police, ok? But it's probably better if you're not here when they arrive."

"And how do you plan on explaining your body double over there?" Dean asked, his eyebrows raised, and Sam chimed right in. "Yeah, not to mention the shedded skin in the hallway."

Gareth, looking disgusted as well as determined, rolled his eyes and answered. "I will get rid of the body first, of course." His body language suggested that he was restraining himself from adding a 'duh'.

Dean found it weird that Gareth said that with such ease; it almost sounded as if he disposed of bodies on a regular basis. But his train of thought came to a sudden halt when Gareth spoke again.

"Please, guys, just go back to your motel. And, if you don't mind me saying this, you might want to consider leaving town entirely." Sensing the question both Sam and Dean were about to ask, Gareth held up a hand to signal that he was not finished. "My mom already heard that there are hunters in town. Since it was her who told me about the break-in, she will know about you very soon; and trust me, you don't want to meet her."

Baffled, Sam and Dean exchanged a look. Sam turned to Gareth again and asked "So, like, you knew about hunters – but not about what we hunt?"

"My mom knows the witches around here, they told her about you guys. But I didn't know that everything else exists as well. Or does it?" Gareth asked, looking mildly curious.

While Sam nodded, Dean shuddered visibly, muttering under his breath. "Witches, Sam." He took a deep breath before he continued in an urgent tone. "And they knew we would be in town. Now there's a good reason to leave asap if I ever heard of one."

Some silent communication took place between the brothers, while Gareth busied himself with the body, looking rather uncomfortable. "Man, this is just too weird," he muttered, shuddering. "It's freaking me out."

"Um, what, exactly, is freaking you out all out of a sudden?" Sam inquired. "Because it didn't sound like you haven't handled bodies before."

"I worked at a funeral home once," Gareth answered. "But I meant that handling a body that looks exactly like me..." He drifted off, and Sam nodded curtly to signal his understanding.

"Seriously, guys," Gareth said, "thank you again for saving my life here. But it really isn't a good idea for you to linger."

"Your mom a witch as well?" Dean asked, still visibly shaken.

Gareth smiled briefly. "Nope, she's not. But I have to call her soon, to let her know what happened. Knowing her, she will come over as soon as she hears about everything, so..." He let that sentence fade away, clearly hoping that they would catch his implied drift.

Sam and Dean looked at each other and shrugged, then walked out, with the barista following them.

The next thing Gareth did was checking in on his brother and letting him know that the situation was sorted. Dean and Sam went with him to confirm his story, but soon afterwards drove back to the motel.

* * *

While Gareth closed his shop for the day in order to deal with the aftermath of the shifter's attack, Sam and Dean returned to their room at the motel after a small detour to get a bite to eat. No sooner had they sat down at the table, Dean spoke up.

"So if Gareth's mom isn't a witch herself, what the hell is up with her? Why does she have ties with them in the first place?" He shuddered yet again. The encounters they had had with witches during their career had all been disastrous.

"Good questions," Sam confirmed, "but I'm wondering about something else – do we even _want_ to know?"

When Dean shook his head so vehemently he thought he might be giving himself a concussion, Sam continued. "And what do you think about Gareth's stint at a 'funeral home', handling bodies..?"

Dean scoffed. "Bull. There's no way that was the truth; or at least not all of it. You know," he added a moment later, "he mentioned that his mom owns another business in town, some bar and grill kinda thing."

They exchanged puzzled looks over that. But eventually their discussion had reached a stalemate, and they decided to get some shut-eye. Sam would only take a quick nap, since he would be following Gareth later; the brothers had agreed that it was unlikely for Gareth to drive around with a body in his trunk in broad daylight.

But when Sam got up in the late afternoon, his older brother was nowhere to be seen. Worried that he might have gone to see Gareth again, Sam hurried outside – and came to a full stop in the parking lot.

The only part of Dean visible were his legs, protruding from underneath his beloved Impala. Stepping closer, Sam cleared his throat before he asked "Dean, what are you doing?"

Dean called out for Sam to wait a minute. Moments later, he rolled out from underneath the vehicle on a creeper. Sam gave him a hand, and once Dean was standing on his two feet again, he answered Sam's question with one of his own.

"Sammy, what do you think I might be doing – after all we heard from Gareth today..?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Sam waited for further explanations, and Dean, rolling his eyes, went on.

"Witches, Sammy – freaking witches!" He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing heavily. Looking at Sam again, he added "First thing I did was searching my Baby for those darn hex bags!"

His brother clapped him on the shoulder. "Good thinking, Dean. Did you find anything?"

When his older brother shook his head, Sam added "How about I start on our room, or are you finished with the Impala?"

"Nothing on my baby, thank fuck. And I would appreciate your help, but you need to get going soon, so we better get our asses back inside," Dean answered.

The older Winchester continued his search of their room after Sam had left, but no hex bags turned up, and Dean began to breathe a little easier.

 

 


	4. The Barista's Secret Revealed

Sam had been lucky. When he was in a hidden position near the coffee shop, it did not take long before he saw Gareth drive off in his Prius, and, after giving him a headstart, Sam followed without hurry. He did not, under any circumstances, want to call Gareth's attention to his presence.

Eventually, he saw how the Prius slowed down when Gareth reached the site of an abandoned factory. While Gareth parked, Sam backtracked a bit and searched the surrounding area for a good hiding place. After sending a quick text with his current location off to Dean, he sneaked over to the factory on foot, carrying a couple weapons just in case.

Behind the factory was the treeline of a forest, and Sam could spot Gareth's car from his hiding place just inside the factory. He had to use binoculars to get a clear picture, but at least he was able to see anything at all since Gareth worked with a battery powered lamp.

It suddenly struck Sam how weird the situation was for him, since it was usually Dean and himself who were doing the digging; only they would be disturbing an already existing grave in order to burn the remains so that the person whose ghost had turned vengeful would be put to their final rest. It felt strange to find himself in an observing position instead.

While Gareth was digging a hole to bury his double and the skin of the shifter, another car rolled up. Sam assumed that Gareth must have known the person driving, since he had only looked up for a short moment before he returned to the task at hand.

An older woman climbed out of the car and looked around with an air of vigilance, and she took her time to be thorough. Sam shrunk back into the shadows even more, just to make sure that his presence would go unnoticed, but at the same time he wracked his brain, trying to think up a way to get closer so he could listen in on any conversation.

In the end, he backtracked and made his way into the trees, closer to where Gareth was still digging in the company of what Sam thought must be his mother.

* * *

He made it within hearing distance just in time.

"Mom," Gareth said in an urgent tone, "stop nagging me, a'ight? This is freaking me out enough already..." He shuddered, but Sam noticed that Gareth's mom appeared rather unperturbed.

"Gareth, I'm glad you came out of that situation alive," she said, but got interrupted by a derisive snort from Gareth. "I am," she repeated, a tad louder this time. "But you got to admit that burying an exact copy of yourself is not one of your more brilliant ideas. Why didn't you cremate the body, our usual procedure?"

Groaning, Gareth rolled the human-sized package down into the pit, then began to shovel the dirt back in. "I'll only burn the skin from that shifter, and that's final," he stated, and his mother crossed her arms in front of her chest, scowling.

For a longer stretch of time neither of them spoke, and Sam, hidden behind the trees, was extra careful not to give himself away. Eventually, Gareth's mom started to ask Gareth a lot of questions about the hunters that came to his rescue, but Sam was relieved to witness that Gareth did not tell her much at all.

"Well," Gareth's mom said, "at least those godawful hunters have been good for something." She sighed. "I would thank them in person for rescuing my best player in our little family business, but I think it best if I stay away from them."

Gareth's mom went over to her car again. "I'll be off then," she stated lapidarly, not even looking back at Gareth, who was in the last stages of closing the pit. If she had been she might have noticed the calculating look Gareth sent after her. But Sam, still observing the scene from behind the trees, soon realised that Gareth appeared as if he was simply done with the whole situation.

Intrigued, Sam kept watching until Gareth had left as well, then the hunter went to get a shovel from the trunk of the Impala to do a little digging himself. The exchange between Gareth and his mother had sounded rather suspicious to him, and so he started to dig some place close to the new grave, where the earth looked disturbed as well.

When he had dug enough, Sam stared for what felt like hours to him.

Bodyparts. Mutilated. All in different states of decomposition. And bones. Bones, that looked suspiciously human.

Shaking himself out of his stunned state, Sam gave what appeared to be a dumping ground for body parts a last once-over before he covered the pit back up with dirt. Disgusted, he left the mass grave to drive over to the Terminus Bar & Grill for a look over the premises. He had a strong feeling that Gareth might have been headed that way to burn the shifter's shedded skin, like he had told his mother.

* * *

After parking the Impala somewhere close by, Sam arrived at the restaurant on foot. He kept himself carefully hidden again, because Gareth's car was still parked behind the complex of buildings. Sam, while keeping a curious eye on the smoke that poured out from one of the chimneys, sent off another text to Dean so his older brother would know where he was. Amused, he read Dean's reply to his last text.

_"What is it with all those abandoned factories in this country? Stay safe, Sammy"_

When Gareth had left, Sam waited for a couple more minutes before he went to do some good old-fashioned lockpicking. He could not have pretended to be surprised when he found the industrial incinerator that the family must have installed themselves in one of the buildings, but that did not mean that he was not shocked.

Muttering under his breath, Sam headed back to the Impala. "I bet that Gareth has an ebay account under some made-up name, to sell the personal stuff from their victims and make some extra cash on the side..."

On his way back to the motel, Sam stopped long enough to get some more groceries at the local 7-Eleven and to use the public phone, tipping the police off regarding Gareth's burial ground behind the factory.

Sam tried hard to think about how he could break the news of Gareth's apparent double life to his brother; but try as hard as he might, he had to admit to himself that he was utterly at a loss. Sighing loudly, Sam swore to himself to keep his story to a minimum, hoping that he would be able to get away with giving Dean only the smallest amount of information.

He decided to urge their departure from the town, and prayed that his brother would not want to see Gareth again one last time before they left or some such thing.

But when he finally got back to the motel, he found Dean already packed and ready to go. Handing his brother a take-out meal, Sam went to gather his own belongings, threw them in the trunk next to Dean's, and they got into the car.

"Let's get he hell outta dodge, shall we?" Dean said, and Sam could only give him a heartfelt nod as an answer, since he had started on his own burger by then. Smiling to himself, Dean steered his beloved car through the night, leaving the town and its inhabitants behind, musing over Sam's unusual choice for a late-night snack.

It was very likely that Dean would have been far less amused if he had known that his brother had gone through quite some trouble to make sure that the burgers he purchased where real, farm animal originated burgers without any shredded human body parts.

* * *

Weeks later, the Winchesters found themselves in between cases, and while Sam went on an prolonged run, Dean used the time to surf the internet alone.

Dean had never breathed a word to Sam, but he had been suspecting that his little brother had kept a few things to himself – things concerning their case in Maryland. An extended search later, Dean sat in a daze, staring blankly at the screen.

That was how Sam found him when he got back from his run. He stepped behind Dean to look at the display, thinking that he might have found a new case, only to find that Dean had dug up the whole truth himself.

And even though the articles dealing with the aftermath of that case were only stating a couple of facts that were seemingly unrelated to each other, Sam, who had checked the news from time to time to keep on top of things, knew that his brother was perfectly able to connect the dots.

Sitting down across from Dean, he could tell from the way he looked at him that the picture Dean had come up with was quite different from the one the police had painted.

"Cannibals, Sam?" He asked in a flat voice. "Gareth and his family, they were cannibals?"

Thoroughly unhappy with the situation, Sam nodded. "I'm sorry, Dean, but I knew you'd take this hard, and I..." He stopped and sighed loudly, rubbing his hands over his face tiredly. "I guess I tried to protect you."

Dean got up slowly and walked to the window. He stared outside for a long moment, then turned back around to face Sam. "I know, Sammy. I'm not holding this against you."

Sam interrupted him. "You would have done the same for me." He said, quietly and with his eyes cast down.

Nodding, Dean closed his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's weird, you know, having it the other way round? Usually, I'm trying to protect you..." Drifting off, he sighed. "I just can't stop wondering, though."

"About what?" Sam interjected.

"The Gareth I went on a date with," Dean explained, a scared expression hiding just underneath his features, "what if that was already the shifter?"

"Please don't do this to yourself, Dean," Sam pleaded. "Besides, you know that the shedded skin was in the storage room of Gareth's café. That's gotta mean that the shifter turned into Gareth after he had ambushed him there. Right?"

Dean sat back down, staring at the newspaper article he had on his laptop. A picture of Gareth was imbedded, and the line underneath stated that the cafè owner went missing the day after the Winchesters had left the town. The article went on with a description of the burial site, and Gareth, whose body had been dug up along with everything else, was considered to be a victim of his own family, even though neither his mom nor his younger brother had confessed to his murder.

The investigation was still going on, and, reading between the lines, Sam and Dean could tell that it was uphill work for the local authorities, because Mary and Alex did not talk. Of course, Mary could not tell the police how she had witnessed her own son burying himself, since nobody would have believed that story.

"I wonder what happened to him..?" Dean murmured, a faraway look dawning in his eyes, and both brothers fell silent, each thinking his own thoughts, until Sam's phone rang.

"Hello?" Sam answered his phone, sounding a tad absentmindedly. "Oh," he exclaimed a moment later, a broad grin that brought out his dimples appearing on his face. "Garth! Long time, and all that. How are you?"

Dean rolled his eyes, and Sam smirked at him while he continued to talk to their fellow hunter. Garth was different, and his personality took some getting used to, but he was an able hunter who had a knack for connecting people.

Eventually, Sam, after a a silent conversation with his brother, asked Garth to alert all the hunters in his network. After he hung up, he sent a picture of Gareth over, so that Garth could add that to the alert he was going to put out.

There was no way in hell that they would risk any of their fellow hunters to fall prey to Gareth, wherever he might be, just because they did not know about him and the things he and his family had been up to.

* * *

A couple of weeks later, Sam and Dean were having burgers while parked at a gas station, when Dean's phone rang. He dug it out of his pocket, about to answer it, when the displayed contact caught his eye.

Clearing his suddenly too tight throat, he swiped the phone and held it to his ear. "Gareth."

Sam's head whipped around, his eyes wide in shock, the food just as temporarily forgotten as Dean's.

Switching to speakerphone, Dean held the phone away from his ear again, and both Winchesters listened. "Dean, just calling to thank you guys for giving me an out of my family situation."

Dean snorted. "Yeah, right." He shook his head in disbelief. "You gotta know that wasn't on purpose."

Gareth hummed in confirmation, and Dean asked him what he had been up to, fishing for information. While Sam mouthed 'Smooth, Dean, real smooth,' Gareth's amused laughter could be heard over the line.

"Let's just say that I am in a different state far away from Maryland and keep it at that, shall we?" He answered.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Right. Anything else?"

"Why, yes, Dean. Did you never wonder who you went out with the other night..?"

Unable to say anything, Dean only gaped at the phone.

After a minute, Gareth coughed discreetly. "Just kidding, of course. I met the shifter in the storage room, and he overpowered me. Though I gotta admit," he added, almost as an afterthought, "it would have been awesome to survive as the shifter, with all those special powers. But oh well..."

Sam had had enough. He grabbed the phone out of Dean's limp hand and barked into the device. "Listen, Gareth. Stop teasing Dean, you sick fuck, and never call this number again!"

The only thing the Winchesters heard before Sam hit the button to end the call was a confirmation from Gareth.

Dean, green around the nose, barely managed to put his food on the dash before he nearly fell out of the door, throwing up what little he had managed to eat before the call came through. Afterwards, he sat on the gravel, panting.

Sam came around the car, a bottle of water in his grasp. He sat down next to Dean, wrapped his arm around his brother's shoulders and handed him the water. Dean took a couple of gulps, and they sat for a few more minutes, not saying anything.

After he had helped Dean back to his feet, Sam quietly suggested to drive so that Dean could rest for a while. To his surprise, his older brother did not even try to protest, but walked around the Impala, his signature bow-legged swagger rather unsteady, and sat down in the passenger seat.

When they were back on the highway, about to follow a lead that Garth had told them about, Sam cast a quick look over at Dean. He was looking out of the window, but Sam would have bet that his brother did not notice anything that flew by.

* * *

A couple states over, Gareth served his next costumer, who happened to be a very handsome guy that appeared to bat for the right team. He walked out of the shop with a number scrawled on his to-go-cup.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I owe a lot of thanks to my friends for helping me with one thing or other for this story; Pharmtechgirl71 suggested the "being two veggies short of a meat and three" phrase to describe Gareth's brother.  
> demented_queen helped me out when I could not find what kind of place Terminus had been before the ZA. In addition to that, she was being generous by letting me borrow a bit of Alex' persona that she had built for him in her "There's Somethang about Rick" story.
> 
> *A crowbar is the answer to anything, period. (Especially in the ZA, of course)


End file.
